The Pale Scar
by Phoenix Oblivion
Summary: Death haunts the island of Paxos relentlessly; that is not what Pale is afraid of. His group live in fear of Scar- there terrifying one eyed leader- and what she will do to them if they live. But when a rebellion grows from the ashes of fire and Pale is caught in the middle of it, he suddenly finds the fate of not himself, but every single cat on the island in his paws...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The sea laps at my paws and I begin to walk further into the ocean. I think about everything that I have seen today, perhaps things that I shouldn't have seen, but things that I see regularly all the same. First of all, I think of Scar: the sight of her is something you will not forget over night; not for the right reasons. You see, she is a short-hair with a black coat and large white splodges across her pelt. This is unusual and it only adds to her unique appearance. Her eyes are a deep shade of amber, Scar doesn't take pride in her looks, but she would have been a beautiful queen if not for her face. This is the feature you will not forget, and the reason she lays claim to her name, Scar. She has only one eye. Due to the vicious air of her name, a lot of cats have mistaken the legandary tribe chief for a tom; they soon ran away regretting what they did.

Now, my mind falls to Ginger, my best friend, brother and twin. I stare at my reflection in the water and I smile as I remember the countless times a cat has mistaken me for my brother. There is only one thing different about us, for at the very tip of my tail, there is a small, but noticeable white patch. The rest is completely alike, for we have the same small, sleek, light ginger fur and emerald green eyes.

I find myself thinking of Shalamarr, an elegant (and lets not forget beautiful) tortoiseshell. Her fur- slightly like Scar's- is a pure, white as perfect as the clouds. There are small, identical in size, ginger spots that roam around her flank and an occasional dainty spot of black. Whenever Ginger sees the queen, he practically drools, and Shalamarr obviously thinks the same for my brother. It makes me jealous, but not in the way you would think. Having a mate on Praxos is hard to come by. Also, I don't think about Shalamarr in the same way as my brother because I think that the queen is just too... smooth, too elegant... too perfect.

Usually, I would find myself thinking of a grand cat called Jet at this point, but suddenly I think of Dave, a cat who is handsome but not nearly as handsome as he thinks he is. He is also a Toyger- a cross between a cat and tiger, whatever a tiger is anyway- and he takes pride in this unnecessary fact as well. I usually would think of this annoying cat last, because he mostly only talks about what muscle hurts the most after his latest fight (but he mysteriously returns with no evidence of a fight). But I think of him now because of an extremely rude comment he made about by my twin today. Ginger finally had a chance to talk with Shalamarr, and I have to say, he wasn't doing too badly, that is, until Dave came along...

_"Why don't you come over here Shalamarr, that useless lump of fur doesn't a deserve a pretty cat like you!" he sneers. My eyes widen and my claws dig into the soft, sand. My anger levels rise, I feel total rage burning in my belly as he insults my twin. My eyes flicker to Ginger and I see him struggling with the situation as well._

__Luckily for Ginger, Shalamarr had handled that situation as smoothly and elegantly as ever. Now, my mind finally rests upon Jet, perhaps the most interesting of our little gang. He is- believe it or not- a completely jet black tom who is Scar's... sort of personal guard. He doesn't have much of a personality, he's almost completely unemotional. He meets every challenge with unspoken loyalty to his leader- _our_ leader.

I don't want to think of Wellington; I won't think of Wellington.

These moments of thought are ones that I treasure, they help me calm my nerves. For I can have some unexpected bursts of anger at strange times, and that come easily effect my judgement. Thinking of every cat takes my mind of this, and today, it has served its job extremely well. For a few moments, I gaze at the beautiful sunset of the Paxos island and think of how beautiful this place really is. But soon, I turn and walk into the thick jungle when I hear my name being called by Scar.

I'm Pale and I'm a ferrel on the streets and in the trees of the Paxos island, part of Scar's elite gang, a master of hunting.

This is my life.


	2. Chapter 2

Being at the bottom branches of Scar's tree is bad. Very bad. It's just a place where you cannot be. I once again think of how lucky I am that our leader sees value in me and my brothers skill at hunting. That's how her gang works: fighting is less important than hunting because there aren't' usually many cats to deal with. When there are though, she's extremely well prepared.

Our tree is the tallest in the forest in the forest, but the main reason Scar chose this tree is that it has thick and strong branches even close to the top. She sleeps on the very top and strongest branch, while here hunters sleep on the branches near her. We are the second most important in the tree after Jet, you don't need to mention Scar, and below is Shalamarr and all the rest.

As I climb the tree, I dare not look at Wellington and instead put my concentration on Ginger, who sits one branch below mine. I mutter a small welcome before immediately retiring to my nest on the branch. Sometimes I wonder wether Scar entertains the idea of flying... actually, I don't think Scar could possibly enjoy something.

I hop onto my branch, an meet a horribly unwelcome surprise.

Scar sits in my nest, her fur reflecting in the moonlight and causing her pelt to glow eerily. I feel the breath gal from my stomach: her claws are being sharpened on the bark, and slowly, her one amber eye turns and locks onto mine.

"Pale," she whispers in a voice colder than ice. There is a look in here that tells me she wants an explanation for something.

"Sca- Scar," I reply finally. Nerves swim in my belly. She does not break her gaze, and I realise this is first time I have properly engaged a conversation with my leader. I blink, unable to meet the cool edge of her voice.

Now, her head turns and stares back at the tree. "It seems to me that you have disappeared frequently at the time of dusk," I wince, "and returned with absolutely n prey." She licks her chops. "Have you forgotten? I except only the best into my group. Perhaps you are less this Pale?"

I don't answer because I don't have to, the message is clear. Do better, our I will kill you. Silently, Scar leaps up onto the branch and climbs higher...

Only the shadows of our conversation remain...


	3. Chapter 3

Maybe we should be a clan, a real life clan, I think. I know it's absolutely ridiculous, but the thought is in every cats mind. To be safe, to be completely equal, to be at peace of mind, and to have a leader who truly cares. In every piece of fresh kill, in every scar, the useless hope bleeds helplessly onto the ground in vain. Cats thought they would be part of something more when they joined Scar, she lured us away with promises that never were. But when I think further, I realise that our small society is in fact more like a clan they we truly believe: Scar sends out patrols every morning, she sends out hunting patrols and border patrols and we have a camp to feel safer... safer anyway. But we are not kept together in loyalty to our clan, we are kept together in fear of Scar, and what she will do to us if we leave. Hiding in the air, in the coldest breeze, in the longest shadow, there is a dark promise, one that tells us we will be trapped in Scar's grasp for the rest life- until we bleed away into nothing. But the will to survive lives on, telling us to keep running, keep searching for a way out. And this is the only thing that keeps us running. The stubborn hope and will to survive.

And I despise it. I despise it because I know it is never going to happen.

Me, Jet and my brother pad silently through the forest. We trail the black fur of Jet as he is the patrol leader. I wonder why Scar's personal guard is like this: his most distinctive feature is definitely a crude curl in his tail, as if he is a pug dog without the flattened face.

"Ginger," he says, but the speech is directed at me. "I want you to go and scavenge the bins of the streets, me and Pale will hunt in the jungle an on the outskirts of the beach."

Even though our main source of food is proper hunting, our group has been known to scavenge in the bins behind the houses of twoleg streets because a large expanse of Paxos is mostly city. I move out of the the jungle and into the city... I know Jet has mistaken me for Ginger. I move out of the jungle...

And into the shadows...


	4. Chapter 4

The bin tips over and it's contents fall to the ground. I can see almost every food I can imagine, perhaps a little rancid, but on the streets you take what there is. I select a piece of bread, and, turning round to leave-

See a dead cat. It's is sprawled across the alley way like it was prey, and this piece has been eaten... half of the cats leg has completely bitten of; you can see the bone. I gasp and leap back in utter horror.

"Horrible isn't it?" For the first time, I turn around and see a cat emerge from the shadows. He has short, brown fur and his muscles are obvious against his flank. My eyes narrow, the cat looks completely calm and self poised, not even bothered by the corpse one bit. "A dog has done it."

What are you doing and who the heck are you?" I spit angrily. It disturbs me that the space between us is occupied by a dead a cat. My eyes study the cat closely and realises he smells strongly of the brown cat.

"My name is Hazel, but I already know you, you're Pale," he says, unconcerned. He sends a few licks down his back before signalling with his tail into the shadows. Another cat as black as the night sky emerges from where Hazel once was to sit beside the brown. "This is Night, predictable as a name isn't it?" Hazel waits for a reply, but when he doesn't get one, he continues talking, "There are more of us you know. Scar isn't the only one with cats at her side."

"I presume you are the leader of this gang, Hazel?" I ask, trying to sound calm; he has unnerved me with the fact that there is more than Scar lurking on the streets. Night has not spoken so far and is about the same size as Hazel, but they both have a deadly air around them.

"Oh no Pale!" Hazel licks his chops. "No, our leader is Ice." There's something about the way he says that that makes me shiver. Although he quite readily tells that this Ice is their leader, he seems completely in control, and speaks with the authority of a leader. Maybe he's a kind of deputy, like Jet, I think.

Suddenly, Night is speaking. "We don't mean you any harm, but if you mean harm to us, we will crush you as easily as a twoleg would crush a beetle..." His words intimidate me, and I know that by this he means that he doesn't want us here. Eager to leave the mangled and savaged cat behind, I run back into the forest.

I must tell Scar...


	5. Chapter 5

Scar leaps to the top branch of the tree and summons her group with a mighty call. Once again, I think of our group and the legendary Thunderclan, how we so alike- but then I think of the rituals and ceremonies of clan life and remind myself how different we really are. Suddenly, I realise that Scar summoned every single cat, meaning...

Wellington is here. I attempt in the vain to look away, but he has already entered my vision. Gasping, I feel my brother's presence beside me.

"I know, Wellington disturbs you, but you cannot show weakness in front of Scar!" he whispers. "Come on, you can do this."

Wellington wasn't from around Paxos, no, he was from an entirely different place altogether. Originally, he had been a forest cat, but he had been captured by two legs and made a pet. Very soon after, his owners had moved to Paxos where he had escaped into the forest. That, was how Scar became a street cat, Wellington took the young pet away from the grasp of her owners and...

Into the wild...

A lot had happened when Wellington trained Scar, but the most iconic moment of their friendship was when they had been attacked by a huge pack of dogs. Scar had gained her trademark feature, the loss of an eye, but Wellington... he lost all of the fur on his collar and his face was ultimately ripped apart with wounds. His tail had also been bent in several places.

Very soon after, Wellington and Scar had encountered a cat named Jet, who helped build the foundations of their own civilisation. It was said that only Scar knew Wellington's deepest secret: Wellington had been pretty much battered to death by a passing rogue soon after the fight with the dogs and if it weren't for Jet, Wellington would not have survived. Wellington thought that he wouldn't survive himself, and that was when he had told Scar his secret... It was was also from him that our group learnt about clan life, for he had apparently studied a clan that lived nearby very closely before he had been captured. Cats like the heroic Firestar and his worst enemy Tigerstar were told in his tales of wonder.

Ginger had given me all this information because I refused to step near Scar's best friend. For some strange reason, Scar and Wellington never spoke anymore, I wonder if it was more of a parasitical relationship and Scar was just feeding of Wellington.

"With information from Pale, one of my hunters," Scar shouts down from the top of the tree. "There is a new community of cats living on the streets." I had not told my leader about the dead body for I did not want us to be thrown into a completely needless war: Scar was fond of wars. "So far, he has reported only three cats, a brown cat named Hazel, a black cat named Night and their leader, Ice-" a few concerned mutters from areas of the crowd echoed "Silence! I will send out several patrols to see if they come in peace, but if they don't, we will annihilate them..."

The meetings in our little gang are not known to be long. Me and Ginger disappear up to our branches in the tree and settle down. I watch the majestic sunset and... knowing I cannot think in the sea otherwise I will make Scar suspicious... I think of all the events of today. The mysterious cat who was murdered, Hazel and the quiet Night. And Scar of course, our leader. I think of all the cats I have engaged with and, and, how I feel.

"Ginger," I say as casually as possible. "Do you ever feel trapped in the tree? Like we are meant to mean more than- than what we're are now." I feel relief burn in my mind as I finally speak the words that have been trapped in my mouth for so long. Trapped, that word again. Why do I feel so trapped?

"What do you mean?" my twin says, obviously very puzzled. I sigh, how could I possibly explain? About Scar, and how I feel? The window of opportunity that has opened so suddenly. Now, right in front of my eyes, there is a new group growing, a brand new chance to start again, forget the elite gang of rogues and all the pain and temper it has made me feel. I feel like I am being engulfed in the sun, when I have been caught in the darkness for so long like a fly in a web. This means so much to me, but it's like- like the light is too bright. I have accustomed to the endless mist the shrouds my life, and now when the chance comes, I am reluctant to leave. There is some kind of invisible force dragging me back into the long shadows; I fight so hard, but the life I have dreamed of is just out of reach. For the past hour, I have tried to pass the force of as just the fact that I found this civilisation right by a dead body, and this has disturbed me, but I know that it's something else.

Impossibly, I explain these strange thoughts to my companion. It is so strange, because I am lying down under the moons gaze. I don't understand, I feel like I am being watched. It's almost as if I can see a tail or a tuft of fur blocking the hypnotising beam of moonlight. For the first time I notice that I am one branch closer to the stop of the tree, that I am one step closer to safety than my brother, that I'm appreciated in Scar's group by one, tiny space, one branch space. The gap feels so small, but I know it is so much further than I know.

And right there, then, I realise it is useless explaining this to Ginger, because he feels exactly the same tug as I do, the same pull dragging him back to the shadows. And the force is Shalamarr, he loves that cat so much that it prevents him from leaving. But- I feel the same thing! What is wrong with me? What is happening? What is pulling me back. Shock grabs me, because there and then I know.

There is only one other she-cat in our group.

And that is Scar. Immediately the mere thought of being in love with her sends me falling into a void of guilt and idiocy. How could I do this to myself?

I am a stupid, stupid fool.


	6. Chapter 6

Standing on the beach, I feel the morning sun burn down upon my back. The heat is intense but my fur is short and adapted to the environment. Several pieces of fresh kill lie at my paws, fresh kill that I will bring to Scar...

Scar. The thought of her sends shivers down my spine, not the fact that I am afraid of her, the fact that I love her scares me so much. I know that I will follow her to the ends of the earth.

"Pale!" a voice echoes from behind me, and from the undergrowth I see Hazel appear. Immediately, my guard is up. What is he doing here? I remember what my leader said about intruders... I am about to spring at Hazel when a humongous weight smashes down on my back, pinning me. I look up and see the silhouetted shape of Night holding me down. "Pale," Hazel advances on me until his face is whiskers away from my own. "I have orders from Ice to..."

"You want information," I splutter, my voice muffled against Night's fur. I know I am not much of a fighter, but I think I could take on Hazel. That is, until his claws slide out. They are long and they glint in the sun, the sand seems to run away from them as they dig into the ground.

"Yes," Hazel replies, a hint of threat in his voice. "I do want information, information about clan life." Suddenly, I feel a tension rubbing on my head and I realise that I want to tell this strange cat about the life inside a clan. It makes me think about leaving, and about starting a new life: if I gave this information there will be what I have dreamed of in my territory. A clan. But I think of Scar, and my loyalty- or is it fear?- fights the urge back into place.

"Why.. what do you want to know of the spiritual rituals of a clan?" I ask, my voice weak. Night's claws are as equally sharp as Hazel's and they throb my head.

"Starclan," Hazel licks his fur, as if hungrily. "How they rule. Leadership, the bond between deputy and warrior, every single bit of information in your skull, we want it."

I'm not sure what to say, but now I can feel something nagging in my head. How do they know about clans? It's is secret- top secret- information that is only known to Scar's elite group? How had this stuff leaked out? Had someone already been tortured by Ice and his gang?

"I will not say," I reply. Immediately, I know I have said the wrong thing. Sudden movement moves my head away from the sand and into sea. Gasping in shock, I try to breath, but only feel salty water clutch my system. They are drowning me.

"Tell us or I'll your brain and leave it rot for the sharks!" Night whispers in my ear. I fell fear roll don my body; I know with a sickening feeling that he means it. But still I don't talk, and the pressure in my lungs begin to burn. I can feel the water beginning to leak into my system, and howeverhar I try toclose my mouth, I cannot prevent it. Suddenly, at the very back of my mind, I can hear voices, unemotional ones and the voice of reasoning.

"Let him go Night!" an authoritive voice echoes and I burst up to air. I breath in the delicious stuff in excess, I can't stop myself. "So, it seems I get to see this Pale that Hazel has told me so much about," a warm voice comes to my eardrums. I turn around and see Ice for the very first time. He is a hulking, well-muscled tomcat with an ultimately tabby colour fur. Even though his voice sounds soft, there is a delicate roughness edging his voice which I don't like. His voice is... just too nice. "I think that Hazel and Night have made it quite clear what we want, now you're coming with us..."


	7. Chapter 7

I stand, humiliated, my fur ruffled and hardly able to stand. These cats have beaten me to within an inch of my life; now, I cannot even stand up. I wonder if Scar will send cats to- no. Immediately I know the answer to my question, she can easily find a replacement for me… and that fact hurts. Knowing how much I care about her, and how she will never feel the same way.

For the first time, I turn around and look at my surroundings. I am in the city; Ice seems to prefer life on the streets than anywhere else. I wonder about their origins, how did they get here? From what I have seen, Ice seems to have very limited control over his cats, yet the cat who seemed to take charge, Hazel, agreed so readily to Ice's commands when he appeared. When he had been tortured, Hazel had frequently appeared while Ice hardly showed himself, and for the first time, I seriously doubt how much power Ice really has over his cats. It seems that the cats he had see Hazel as the figure of power, but since Hazel obeys Ice, the others reluctantly do too. So far, Night seemed to be the man of action for the group and Hazel proffers not to get his claws covered in blood. I wonder how many cats there are here?

It seems my question is answered immediately for a voice echoes inside my head. "There are eight of us here."

I peer into the endless darkness of the alley, the wind ruffling my fur. The voice I recognise as Hazel's; I am worried that he will torture me again. "Hazel?"

"Yes." The unemotional quality of his voice suddenly becomes plain to me. I thought Night was chilling, and Hazel was actually quite warm, but now, with no cats around him, Hazel is showing another side of himself. Now, without doubt, I know that Hazel is… different.

"Wha- what do you want?"

"I don't want anything," he replies, a strong gust of wing grips me, "I'm here to explain why we're doing this." I don't say anything because I don't have to. It's like Hazel's claws and ripping at my throat, shaping my words into what he desires. I can feel my own heart, smashing in my throat. And suddenly, he is padding closer from the tip of the alley, the darkness slipping into stride beside him. He smells of cats, everything evil in this world; somehow he smells-wrong. "I say there are eight of us, but it is more like there are hundreds," Hazel whispers, his face almost whiskers from my own. "Our group is more than a group, we're one, an expanding army, we are like a family, because we understand each other. We understand what it means to be unique." He says unique, but it's more like he's spoken of the Dark Forest. "Take Night for example. Have you noticed how black his fur is? It's more black than any shade you've seen before isn't it?"

"I, I, I don't know," I mumble.

"Well you wouldn't would you?" he spits. "No. It's not that his fur is black, it's that his _skin_ below is black as well. When Night was just a kitten, a huge forest fire raged through his home. His family escaped, but they were too cowardly to try and rescue their son. The heat ate Night, it rejoiced in his bones, and he barely escaped with his life, crawling away, crying for his mother. All his fur had been incinerated, and his skin below had been burned. His mother abandoned him twice, and his fur grew back, of course, but his skin never healed." Fear burns through my body like a fire; I find myself imagining Night and how he must have felt.

I have never felt colder as Hazel pads away.


	8. Chapter 8

Scar

I stand at the top of the tree, looking down at Ginger who climbs back up the tree with fresh kill in his jaws: again.. Pale is usually with him, and this confuses me. Why isn't he now? Immediately, a feeling of worry fills my mind and I have a burning desire to find him-

No. I scold myself. Your feelings for Pale cannot get in the way of your leadership. I turn my head to see Jet on my branch with me; like Ginger, he has fresh kill. Two mice. He places one on my precariously before nodding his head and sitting down next to me. I stare at him coldly, my one amber eye burnig ferociously. He doesn't answer, except you can see the hurt in his eyes as he disappears down the branches of the tree... I feel the warm meat move smoothly down my throat, but it doesn't soothe the emptiness in my head. The emptiness that has remained there for my entire life, since I can remember anyway.

Since Greystripe abandoned me. I look down the tree at the old grey tom cat standing on the lowest branch down, Wellington! I chose that name for him, the last favour for a cat I once called my friend. No one else, except for perhaps Pale, would never know Wellington as his true name, Greystripe.


	9. Chapter 9

It is only when Hazel returns to the alley the same night that I realise what he is doing. He's going to tell me everything single way, every single route that these cats came to get here. And he knows perfectly way that it will torture me more than the cuts and wounds ever could: seeing how much these cats have suffered.

"I think we will talk about Wolf next," Hazel purrs icily as he stands in front of me, his whiskers centimetres from my own. "One cat I'm sure you know very well, Pale."

And I do, all to well, because he is the one who tortures me. I can't help it, I shudder at the thought and hazel is satisfied. He sits back, almost as if he is relaxing, as a the mottled brown tom pads into the alley. "You wanted me, boss?"

There it is again, that unspoken loyalty between the "Ice's" cats and Hazel. That small, brown cat is too clever for his own good: I know he is definetly using Ice to his own ends... I wonder why? My thoughts are interrupted when I look at Wolf, really look at him for the first time. To my deep surprise, he is a calico tom! I heard that they are extremely rare, and if they do occur, they usually have impaired brains. But not this one, like Hazel, I detect a strange kind of shrewdness in Wolf's eyes. There's something about him that scares me, he looks a lot like Hazel... in a weird way. Almost too alike.

Hazel sits down beside me whispers in my ear, and for the first time, I get the feeling that his presence is almost... spelling safety for me. "I'm sure you've noticed how Wolf is a calico tom... well, how about I told you he was the only calico tom to have ever been on this island? You may think this is a totally unnecessary fact, but he is a lot more than meets the eye. You see,_ Wolf was born from a blind cat_-" I had a sickening feeling in my gut, I knew that this wasn't going to end well for Wolf- "so his vision is lets say, slightly impaired. Most toms intelligence would be limited, but no, Wolf cannot see colour at all. He thinks that blood looks the same as mud, and this just makes him a vicious fighter in battle." I stare at Wolf, trying to puzzle out what he is seeing through those deep eyes, he seems to stare right through me; Hazel is right. He cannot see colour, he thinks I look exactly the same as the brown tom.

"Wolf, I'm sure you can leave now," Hazel says, his gaze still fixed directly upon mine. I feel the burning worry in my heart as Wolf goes, leaving me and Hazel alone in the alleyway. The moon shines brightly above like a saucer of milk, and the shadows seem to engulf Hazel as his eyes eat away at my own. At this moment, the whole world is wrestling in my chest. It is just me and Hazel, evil versus good, me against the entire reality of my existence. It's like the brown cat is tearing me apart limb from limb, breaking me away from my memories, my whole life is being ripped away right in front of me.

Suddenly, I feel myself lash out, screaming in vain. "STOP THAT! LEAVE ME ALONE." Hazel skips nimbly aside- a good move on his apart- and my sharp claws scratch mid air. I turn to face him once more, my face contorted with rage. "How are you doing that? What did you see?"

For a moment, I can feel my muscles rippling with power, but then my weakness grabs me and I am pulled back down to the ground. Hazel stares at me for a few strange moments, and then starts to laugh. "I like you Pale, lots of spunk, you refuse to give up even when your pinned to the ground and _dying_."

"I'm... not dying," I splutter. I glare at him contemptuously. "I will never give in!" I won't let you take over Scar's group."

Hazel's amusement stops and he stares at me, almost as if he is momentarily interested in me. "Pale- I wonder why your loyalty towards this group is so strong? It's almost as if you are a clan cat... you're following Scar without even so much of a blink of an eye-" suddenly, I can sense that safety Hazel's prescence is spelling towards me. It's almost as if, he has convinced Ice not to kill me, but instead to take me in, "-you would make a fantastic clan leader Pale. Palestar of Iceclan... I think you have that ambition."

"I don't have any ambition whatsoever," I retort angrily, but suddenly, I can sense a kind of willingness inside me. The strength of loyalty that Hazel is saying that I have inside me: I know that what I'm saying is utterly un-true. For the first time, I realise that want for power burning inside me.

"I don't believe you," Hazel replies immediately. "You already more power than you know."

"Wha- what?" I say, mystified and confused, what is Hazel talking about.

"I'm going to tell you a secret Pale," Hazel says, his voice talking a strange tone in my ear. "I can see what you think of this group, Ice is called the leader, but it's painstakingly obvious that I have all the power, isn't it? Well, I'll tell you why, because I'm not at all ambitious; I don't want the power. You may find that hard to believe, but I honestly don't want any power. Cats chose me to be their second in command or deputy because I have that influence, cats believe in me because I have unspoken loyalty as well. Me and you are much more alike than you think Pale. Ice is a strong warrior, but also ambitious, cats listen to him because I do. I'm sure you already worked that out? Well, I'm offering you a chance, be part of something more. You can turn all the cats here into something more, you could have the power, shape it into a clan. I would work with you, we could be a clan. All of us reunited, no more fighting, all of us one. We would be whatever you wanted us to be. We would be a clan..."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Chapter Ten has finally arrived! I think I'm going to update all of my stories today.**

* * *

As I watch Hazel pad away into the endless shadows: I find myself feeling more lost than before. This- this offer is something I just cannot accept. My loyalties lie with Scar! Don't they? Or is this loyalty that Hazel speaks of just an illusion of my mind. Am I just loyal to Scar because I love her so much? But then again, I can imagine myself being leader. And... and I want to be leader. Deep inside, I know that I do.

So should I accept this?

"You don't strike me as a fool, Pale," a voice echoes. "So why do you think that you can trust Hazel?"

"Who are you?" I call from my space in the shadows. I can smell my fear scent rising.

"I am Ice Pale," he says as I see his shape appear from the night. "Leader of this group, or so everyone says. Do you really think, in this leadership that Hazel offers you, that you will have the power? No, it will and always will be Hazel's."

"And I'm sure you learnt that through experience," I say. From what I can see, Ice is a strage cat. I didn't quite see him properly when he appeared on the beach. His name doesn't fit him at all; I can see no sign of icy personality, all I can see is a strange kind of sadness.

"Yes, Pale," he continues. "I too was lured into Hazel's little trap. You don't understand what sort of a monster he is. Hazel is nothing of this world. Once, I was like you, full of proimse and life, until he changed me into this. A bloodlusting leader who lets his claws do the talking," he spat on the ground.

"But why," I say, "why did he do that to you?"

Ice moves forward a few more steps before he is staring straight into my eyes, "I don't know." And with that, the tom turns around and disappeares back to where he came from.

There's something going on here, something very wrong, I think. Something Hazel is doing to the cats makes me feel like I'm a piece of prey to be eaten...

**Author's Note: I know it's a short chapter, but they're about to get more exciting.**


End file.
